


a life in your shape

by cumulativeChaos



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Ace Week, Allosexual Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Communication, Episode 181, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, very very lightly implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27277540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumulativeChaos/pseuds/cumulativeChaos
Summary: Jon pulls back. Martin’s face is beet-red. “What’s wrong?”“Er.” Martin swallows. “Remember when you said that you, uh… don’t?”Jon remembers. They’d only talked about it once, and the entire extent of the conversation had been Jon saying “I don’t do sex,” and Martin responding, “Okay.” It occurs to him that maybe there should have been a little more to the discussion.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 41
Kudos: 492
Collections: Repulsed/Averse Ace Jon Archivist, tma fics





	a life in your shape

**Author's Note:**

> i may be allo but u know what REALLY gets me horny??? open and honest communication in a loving and healthy relationship
> 
> beta'd by the fantastic Elfgrunge to whom i owe both my life and firstborn. title from Strawberry Blond by Mitski which is not actually applicable to the story in any way

Martin doesn’t relax until their second morning of consciousness in Mikaele’s oasis. Jon doesn’t relax until the end of that day. Even with Mikaele’s explanation, it’s hard to trust comfort, especially with Annebelle hovering around in their periphery. Eventually, though, they decide the food isn’t going to turn into some scuttling nightmare, and the house isn’t going to start suddenly leeching off their life force, and the two find it in themselves to relax.

Several long hours of peace eventually find them lounging in their guest room, slowly digesting a ridiculously decadent meal. Faintly, they can hear the sound of a piano playing from somewhere else in the house, and outside they can hear a gentle breeze brushing against the trees. Jon is sprawled over Martin, his face resting against his chest, and Martin’s hands brush slow circles against Jon’s skin as they silently enjoy each other’s company.

“Sort of reminds me of the safehouse,” Martin says after several minutes of comfortable silence.

Jon hums in agreement. “A bit bigger, maybe.”

“A _bit,”_ Martin snorts. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Fewer cobwebs, ironically enough.”

Martin laughs at that, the sound vibrating against Jon’s cheek. A feeling of contentment, warm and syrupy, spreads through Jon’s chest, and he can’t help the soft smile that creeps its way onto his face.

Jon pushes himself onto his elbows, so he’s gazing down at Martin’s grinning face. Still smiling, Jon says, “I love you.”

Martin flushes. No matter how often Jon says it, Martin always flushes. “O-okay. I love you, too.”

Jon’s smile widens. Martin would rather show than tell, so it’s always a special treat to hear him say the words back. He lifts a hand to Martin’s face and brushes away a strand of hair. “It’s nice to see you like this, again.”

“Like what?” Martin asks.

“Human,” Jon says. “It’s nice to _feel_ human again, with you.”

Martin’s smile turns somewhat wobbly, which won’t do. Jon leans forward and presses a sweet, chaste kiss to Martin’s mouth. Martin hums happily, arms coming up to wrap around Jon protectively.

Jon loves Martin’s arms. They’re big and soft, yet Jon knows there’s strength hidden beneath that softness. He loves the way the sleeves of Martin’s t-shirts stretch around his biceps, the way being hugged by Martin nearly envelopes Jon’s entire body.

“You’re beautiful,” Jon says into Martin’s mouth.

Jon can feel Martin’s face heat up, and he knows Martin is colored crimson. “H-hardly.”

“Shush.” Jon kisses his forehead, his cheek. “You’re captivating.”

“Stop it,” Martin whines.

“Nope.” A kiss on the nose, a peck on the lips. “You’re the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re only saying this because I finally showered,” Martin jokes.

Jon hums a laugh, nuzzling into the soft underside of Martin’s chin. He may have showered, but Martin hadn’t taken the opportunity to shave, and there’s a slight stubble that isn’t normally present. Usually, this spot of Martin is smooth and soft, but right now the stubble is rough against Jon’s nose and lips.

Jon finds he doesn’t mind the stubble. He likes the way it feels, but more importantly, he likes the way it’s _new,_ another part of Martin he hasn’t yet discovered. Their time together hasn’t been that long, all things considered. There’s parts of Martin he doesn’t know yet. He’s grateful that he has a chance now to get to learn something new about the man he loves; he’s not sure if he’ll ever get another one.

“You’re tickling me,” Martin says.

“Sorry,” Jon says. He moves up Martin’s jaw, nuzzling his way to Martin’s ear. He presses a kiss to his earlobe, and Martin’s breath hitches.

“Um,” Martin says, voice suddenly strained.

Jon pulls back. Martin’s face is beet-red. “What’s wrong?”

“Er.” Martin swallows. “Remember when you said that you, uh… don’t?”

Jon remembers. They’d only talked about it once, and the entire extent of the conversation had been Jon saying “I don’t do sex,” and Martin responding, “Okay.” It occurs to him that maybe there should have been a little more to the discussion.

Jon flushes. “Is that, er…”

“We should… probably lay down some ground rules,” Martin says. His arms loosen around Jon, hands coming to rest on Jon’s back. As Martin draws small circles with his thumbs, Jon tries not to panic. A conversation about their relationship is a _good_ thing. Communicating is _good_.

“Let’s start with you,” Martin says. “Obviously, you said you don’t do sex. I assume you meant, like, _ever?”_

Jon nods. “I’m sorry if that disappoints you,” Jon says quietly. He can’t help but apologize; force of habit, really. He’s used to it being a dealbreaker.

Martin responds by kissing him gently on the forehead. “Nothing about you could ever disappoint me,” he says. “I’m just making sure I fully understand your boundaries so I don’t accidentally cross any.”

Jon couldn’t hold back his smile even if he tried. “Thank you.”

“You’re okay with kissing,” Martin states. “And cuddling.”

“Most touching, really,” Jon says. “Just not… you know. Erogenous zones. Genitals. Arse. Uh, nipples.”

“Anywhere else?” Martin asks. “Neck? Ears? Anywhere on your legs?”

Jon shakes his head. “That’s all fine, really. Just know that the most reaction you’ll get from me is _ticklish_ and nothing more.”

From the way Martin’s eyes light up, Jon knows he made a mistake. “Oh, I will _definitely_ be using that information in the future.”

“Please don’t,” Jon whines. Then, because they’re having a conversation about boundaries, he says, “Actually, uh, you can? I’ll complain about it, but. You can.”

Martin smiles and presses another kiss on Jon’s forehead. “Wonderful,” he says, voice full of mirth.

“And you?” Jon asks. “Your boundaries.”

“Right.” Martin shakes his head, as if he’d forgotten. “So, for me, I need boundaries for the same reason as you, but also the opposite?”

Jon blinks. “Elaborate.”

“Well, I’m not ace,” Martin says. “And I can get riled up pretty easy. I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, so it’s better that I just tell you what to avoid.”

Jon considers this. He chews at his bottom lip while he thinks, pondering how to phrase his next question. “Would you rather I… helped you?”

It’s something he’s done before for some of his past partners. Not for Georgie, and Georgie never seemed to expect him to, but internally Jon believes it was one of the many reasons things ended between them. Jon doesn’t enjoy sex by any stretch of the imagination; too much sweat and bodily fluids, too many weird sensations. The few times he’d… partaken, he’d been left feeling shaky and on edge, uncomfortable in his skin and his body for hours afterward. On one ugly, memorable occasion, he’d gone to the bathroom to cry. But surely for Martin he could bear it? Surely if it meant making Martin happy, it wouldn’t be so bad?

Martin’s eyes widen. “Er–is, uh, is that something you’re comfortable with?”

“That’s not what I asked,” Jon sidesteps.

“But it’s what _I_ asked,” Martin says firmly. “I can tell you what I’m _not_ comfortable with: my boyfriend forcing himself to do something he’s not comfortable with because he thinks it’s what I want. I’m not going to lie to you, Jon, I like sex, but I don’t like sex where my partner isn’t enjoying themselves. That isn’t just about you. That’s just a standard any decent person would have.”

Jon glances away, mumbles under his breath, “Not the standard everyone has.”

Martin’s face positively _crumples._ His hands come up to cup Jon’s face, thumbs stroking at his cheekbones. He looks like he’s about to cry. That alone is enough to give Jon the courage to answer the question.

“It’s… it’s not something I’m comfortable with,” Jon says. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Martin says. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Jon shakes his head. Or, he tries to, but Martin holds him in place. Instead, he ends up shutting his eyes and leaning into Martin’s touch. He drops his head forward until his forehead is resting against Martin’s. They lay like that for a moment, only the distant sound of a piano and their quiet breathing filling the room.

Finally, Jon clears his throat. “So, uh… your boundaries?”

“Right.” Martin opens his eyes, but he doesn’t pull away. “Um, you’re gonna want to avoid the same spots you talked about, obviously. Also the sides of my neck, my ears, my thighs. And then biting, scratching, and hair-pulling are all, uh. Turn-ons.”

Jon leans back enough for Martin to see his eyebrows raise. “My, my, Martin…”

Martin flushes. “You are _not_ allowed to kink-shame me.”

“Alright, alright.” Jon’s smirking, but he lets it drop. Martin has been endlessly gracious to him, Jon can return the favor. He moves his hands up to Martin’s head, then pauses. “I can still play with your hair, right?”

“Absolutely.” Martin seems horrified that Jon would even ask. “If you _stop,_ then we might have a problem.”

Jon chuckles. He lets his hands thread through Martin’s curls. Martin sighs in contentment, and Jon can’t help but kiss him, softly, slowly. The conversation turned out to not be worth his initial panic; talking about this actually feels _good_. It feels like a step in the right direction. Setting boundaries and limits means that they both want things to work out, means they care about each other enough to make sure the other is comfortable. Jon’s never had this with anyone, never dared be this open about his needs. He wishes there were words to describe to Martin how grateful he is.

“I love you,” is what he settles for.

This time, Martin just smiles comfortably, gazes at Jon adoringly. “I love you too.”

Gently, Jon returns to his initial position, head resting against Martin’s chest. He can feel Martin’s heartbeat, feel the rise and fall of Martin’s chest. Martin wraps him in his arms again, nearly enveloping Jon’s entire body. Jon’s never felt so safe or protected. He’s never felt so loved. He could lay like this forever, just enjoying Martin’s company.

They may not have forever, but they have right now. Eyes closed, Jon lets himself relax against Martin’s chest and enjoy the moment for as long as it lasts.


End file.
